


Snowballs and Jelly Babies

by everythingmurky



Series: Time demi-Lord [4]
Category: Broadchurch, Doctor Who
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Crossover, Father-Daughter Relationship, Flashbacks, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-09 04:10:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10403625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingmurky/pseuds/everythingmurky
Summary: The weather in Broadchurch is doing strange things, and Ellie knows aliens are to blame.





	1. Time for Snow

**Author's Note:**

> I was in a bit of a debate with myself over which Child of Time universe story got to be done next or if any of them should be done at all, but then I watched episode four and was desperate for... things that counter a certain scene or two, and so I came back to this one as it seemed lighter and nicer than trying to do anything with Human Nature, The Year that Never Was, or a certain interlude between the Doctor and Rose, which are the main missing pieces at this point (though I'm not opposed to doing other things, I just don't know which ones to do, eep.)
> 
> Plus this wasn't likely to get confused with the other AU I'm doing since that's historical and I think Human Nature would be, too, even if I don't see it as being the same as the show. Like, at all.
> 
> Also, the site seems to have eaten this, so apologies if it shows up twice. I can't see it myself for the life of me, and it's very irritating.

* * *

"It is the middle of the summer and it's snowing,” Ellie said, frowning. For four days now, they'd been barraged by strange weather, though the snow was only in the last day. It had started early this morning and showed no sign of stopping. They were in the middle of a blizzard, in the summer, and she just knew this had to do with aliens.

It didn't help that the half-alien among them didn't even seem bothered by the freakish weather. The quarter-alien was loving it. First thing she'd done was clap her hands and rush off to find a box she insisted her father had, and when she came back, she wrapped Hardy up in the most ridiculous scarf Ellie had ever seen and donned a matching one herself, giggling the entire time.

Whatever was wrong with the weather, it apparently had a real affect on anyone that was part Time Lord, because Hardy was actually smiling, and Daisy didn't hardly seem to have her feet on the ground.

“Snow happens, Miller,” Hardy said, enjoying his daughter's antics and Ellie was starting to wonder if Daisy's condition could be contagious. “Even sometimes in the summer.”

“Not here,” she insisted. “If this is one of your alien things—”

“Excuse me?” he asked, and there he was, back again, full on grumpy Scot. “Not everything in the world is about aliens, Miller, and even if it was, it's not _my_ alien thing. I don't have alien things.”

“Yes, you do. You're half—”

“Half nothing,” Hardy said, walking away from her, the long scarf trailing after him as he did. Daisy joined him, leaving Ellie to stand there, shaking her head, and wondering if her life was ever going to be anything close to normal again.

She turned back, deciding that as strange as the weather was, Fred would probably enjoy being out in it, and Tom she thought already was, since half the kids in the neighborhood had run out to the field to build snowmen.

Ellie should get her camera, make sure she took some more photos. She wanted to replace all the ones with Joe, though that was a bit difficult as they weren't all the same memories. Tom and Fred no longer had a dad to show them those things in life that were all part of those weird rituals men had, and while Tom said he no longer minded his dad was gone, was just glad he was locked away, she did worry a bit about them when they got older.

It didn't help that Tom said he didn't need a dad when he had a half-alien for an “uncle.”

Bloody hell, Hardy was going to ruin her life. Completely.

Worse, she was letting him. Him and all this daft alien nonsense.

* * *

“Am I seeing things?” Beth asked, and Ellie gave the snow a sideways glance. She wished she was, the way it was piling up out here. She didn't have anywhere to go, she supposed, but then they were sure to get at least one traffic fatality out of this, what with all the tourists who didn't know the area in the first place being caught in a freak snow storm.

“It's white, it's fluffy, and it's freezing cold. No, you're not seeing things.”

Beth gave her a bit of a frown. “I wasn't asking about the snow. I meant that.”

She pointed across the field where Hardy and his daughter were throwing snowballs at each other in a full on war, complete with oversized scarves and god help them, laughter.

Ellie shook her head. “Something is up with Hardy. He is never in this good a mood.”

Beth shrugged. “He's not dying now, so I suppose that helps. And we got justice for Danny, even if it took finding out Joe hurt someone else. He fixed that other case, the one everyone blamed him for, and he's got his daughter here. He's got every reason to be happy, doesn't he?”

“Close enough, I suppose,” Ellie said, and Beth nodded in agreement.

“I guess you're right. His father's not here, and Sarah Jane said she was off to do more reporting on something after a visit to Luke.”

“Hardy never mentioned having an adopted brother, either,” Ellie grumbled, kicking the snow. “Lets me think his mother's dead, never so much as mentions his brother, barely mentions his daughter, his father was supposedly dead—”

“Ellie, he didn't know his father was an alien,” Beth reminded her. “You can't blame him for that part. And really, do you think he'd have had a moment's peace about his daughter if he'd brought her along with him the first time? People would have been after her in that nightmare with the press, always asking if he would be saying what he was if it was his daughter.”

Ellie grimaced. She remembered Hardy telling Mark that if his son died, he'd tell the police everything, he just would. She'd actually believed him at the time, but now she didn't think that could possibly be true. He would not tell anyone that his father was an alien, or the last of the Time Lords, or that he was a rare hybrid that shouldn't exist.

“Come on, El,” Beth prodded. “Stop fussing. Weather like this never happens, and everyone else is having a good time. I wish Danny could see it. Him and Tom would be having so much fun right now...”

Ellie pulled her into a hug. “I am so sorry, Beth. I wish I had known what Joe was doing, but he had me completely fooled.”

“I know,” Beth said, pulling away from her. She wiped her eyes. “What do you say we make a couple snow angels?”

“You know,” Ellie said, “that sounds terrific.”

* * *

“If this snow keeps coming down like this, we'll be able to build a mountain for skiing.”

“Don't exaggerate, Miller,” Hardy said, though she thought the morning's exertions had taken a toll even on him. He was no longer playing with his daughter, though she'd made some lovely snow angels with Fred and Chloe. “It's a small atmospheric disturbance. It'll pass.”

She looked at him. “Do you have any idea how wrong it is for you to say that?”

He nodded. “Aye, I do.”

“Don't do that. Don't be all—”

“Bloody hell, do you think I _want_ this?” he asked, shaking his head. “No. I don't. This is a nightmare half the time, and the rest—well, I should have taken Harkness up on his offer to drug you all so you'd forget.”

She rolled her eyes. “Wanker. Go back to the strange good mood you were in before and throw more snowballs at your daughter.”

He grunted. “Tempted to throw one at you right about now, Miller.”

She glared at him and then picked up a bit of snow herself, packing it into a ball. He gave her a look to suggest she wouldn't dare, but she just smiled and threw it right at him.

It hit his scarf and fell apart without much of an impact, not so much as dusting him with powder. That was completely not what she was going for, as it didn't even seem to faze him.

“I was standing right in front of you.”

“I know,” she grumbled. “Hold on, I'll do it again.”

“I'm not standing still so you can hit me with a snowball.”

“Ah, but are you going to admit that something's very wrong here, dig out that screwdriver your father left you, and go track down the source of it?” Ellie countered. He rolled his eyes, and she knew he wasn't about to, with his sudden need to deny all things alien again. What was with that? She hadn't thought things had gone that wrong when he went with his father, but he had another pin like the one his mother had given him before—perception filter—and never took that improved biodamper off his hand. Even Daisy was disappointed in him because he hadn't wanted K-9 to stick around.

Not that he had a house for that or that it wasn't awkward that he was sort of staying with Ellie while things were up in the air and the tourists had crowded him out of the Traders and that blue hut, too. Even the cottage Claire had used was full up during their busy season.

“Dad,” Daisy called, jogging over to them, cheeks pink and a bit out of breath. “You remember that year we got snowed in when we were in Scotland and you built—”

“Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “I am not building you a snow fort again. You're fifteen now. Build it yourself. Get your friend over there—what's her name—to help you do it. Oh, and that Miller boy. Tim.”

“Tom,” Ellie said, reaching over to smack him because she knew he knew perfectly well what her son's name was. “I don't suppose you have any proof of this snow fort? I'd love to have some pictures to spread about the office. DI Shitface builds a snow fort.”

Hardy glared at her. “Just because I won't go hunting aliens does not mean you get pictures of Daisy's childhood to use against me.”

“Oi, Hardys!” Mark called out from the house. “I think I saw the missing member of your scarf club a minute ago.”

Hardy grunted, turning to his daughter. “You see what you've done?”

“Oh, please, Dad. It's my favorite scarf, and you never wear yours without me, so of course I had to do it with all this snow,” she said, wrapping her arm around his and smiling at him.

“Yes, this does seem to be some very interesting weather you're having around here,” a new voice said, and Ellie frowned to see a man standing there in a red suit. He was more curl than anything, but he sported the same kind of scarf as Hardy and Daisy, only his matched the suit. He grinned, holding out a paper bag. “Jelly baby?”


	2. Time for Dismay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor's arrival causes some tension and confusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had forgotten just how little I knew of the fourth Doctor. I've watched a bit with him, the whole Key of Time saga and a couple others, but on the whole, I don't know enough. I've been reading Shada and I tried to write him as he should be, but I don't think I'm very good at that.
> 
> *sigh* Why did I do this again?

* * *

Daisy reached over to take a candy from the man, earning a frown from her father as she did. Ellie considered doing the same, if only to needle Hardy, but that thought was overshadowed a minute later when the newcomer spoke again, looking from Daisy to Hardy.

“That's a very nice scarf you've got there,” he told her. “I seem to recall having one very much like it before. Favorite of mine—until I misplaced it.”

“Shame,” Daisy said, picking up the end of her scarf. “This is my favorite. I take it everywhere with me, even when the weather's nice. And Mum didn't let Dad have much when he left, but he did make sure he took his, even if he never seems to wear it without me.”

Ellie refused to think of that as cute. Cute and Hardy did not belong in the same sentence, even if she already knew he could be very sweet with his daughter, not at all the wanker he was with everyone else.

“True shame about mine,” the other man went on. “I gave it to someone to hold while I dealt with a rather dangerous and messy threat, and when I came back, they were gone.”

“Wait,” Ellie said, “isn't that—”

“No idea what you're talking about, Miller. Come on, Daisy.”

“Ooh, does this mean it's time for the traditional cocoa?” she asked, clapping her hands together. “Dad makes the best cocoa ever. I'm not even exaggerating. He really does. I have yet to find anyone that does it better, and believe me, I tried.”

“Every bloody coffee shop and restaurant in Britain,” he muttered, though he gave his daughter a smile despite his grumbling. “She had it everywhere. People thought that was the only thing she ever drank, and then they got offended when she never went back for seconds.”

“You're joking,” Ellie said, and then she grimaced. “No, it's you, and you don't joke. Well, not most of the time. You're just trying to distract us from the fact that we all know that scarf of yours came from your father, which would make that one—”

“Shut up, Miller.”

“If you think that's going to stop me from pointing out—in the middle of a freak snowstorm I know is caused by aliens and you refuse to acknowledge—that if he lost that scarf, he's also your—”

“Interesting theory,” the Doctor said, turning toward her. “Exactly what makes you think that aliens are involved with the weather? Do you always assume that everything strange is aliens?”

“I do since I met him,” Ellie said, pointing to Hardy.

The Doctor looked him over. “I see your point.”

“Excuse me?”

“My dear fellow, while I am aware that I am somewhat... unpopular, shall we say, among my contemporaries, even I recognize a fellow Time Lord when I see one,” the Doctor said. “And I rather think you're the same one who made off with my scarf.”

Daisy turned to her father. “Is that true? Is that Gramps?”

“Gramps?” the Doctor repeated, looking a bit appalled. “I'm sorry. You must be mistaken. You see, I do have a granddaughter, but Susan is very far from here, and I'm afraid none of my other children have loomed children of their own. Even I stopped after the one that became Susan's parent. I'm afraid something here has been very confused.”

“Exactly,” Hardy said. “I have a scarf that belonged once to my father. Over time, it got a hole in it, and my ex-wife wanted to throw it out. Instead, I separated it into two sections and gave one to my daughter. That's all it is.”

“You know it isn't,” Ellie said. “How can you—”

He took hold of her and hissed one word into her ear. “Timelines.”

She shook her head. Unbelievable. He thought he could go pretending his father wasn't his father and there weren't aliens here mucking up the weather because of a stupid timeline? “Hardy, you can't just—”

“Can, will, am,” he insisted, turning around and heading up toward the house.

* * *

Daisy fiddled with her scarf for a second, turning the ends over in her fingers. Her father had both said and denied that the Time Lord there was his father—her grandfather—and she didn't know what to do. Her other grandfather, the one with the striped suit, he'd talked a lot about timelines, and she knew that her dad had both messed with them and preserved them, and he was still mad at one of her grandmothers for messing with them, but she didn't know why that meant her father would lie about her grandfather right now.

She ran after him, fighting against the snow, figuring she'd get a lot more truth out of him if they were alone than around the others. Sometimes Ellie got her father talking, but other times their bickering made things worse.

And she knew it didn't help that her father was still in between houses. He kept threatening to send her back to her mother, and probably would have done if not for the freak snowstorm.

She pushed open the door and stepped inside. “Dad?”

“Did Miller follow you?”

“Not yet,” Daisy answered, crossing the kitchen to his side. She tugged on his scarf. “Why can't we tell Gramps who we are?”

“You know why. He doesn't know about us yet, not in that form. That's only his fourth body. You know his tenth. Well, eleventh. It's complicated.”

She frowned. “Gramps has had ten different bodies?”

“I did explain regeneration to you,” her father said, going to the sink and filling the kettle. “Your grandfather has done it nine times, so ten faces. You only know the one, though I have actually met this one before. He did give me the scarf to hold.”

“And you stole it.”

Her father shrugged. “It was a nice scarf.”

“Right,” Daisy said, fighting against giggling. She did love her scarf, and she liked that it matched her dad's even though she should be so over that by now. Then again, she was closer to her father than ever now, and only part of that was because he was part alien. “Is Ellie right? Is there an alien causing the snow?”

“Probably.” Her father shook his head. “Almost certainly, given that he showed up.”

“Why didn't you go deal with it before now?”

“Daisy, you find this whole alien thing... exciting. An adventure. I don't.”

She grimaced. She knew something had happened while he was gone, but he still wouldn't talk about that, hiding behind timelines and that it wasn't important even if that was an obvious lie. She knew it was. They all did.

“Dad,” she began, “Why do you hate this so much?”

He frowned. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Because I can tell something's wrong. I don't have to be part Time Lord to know that, either,” she said. “You haven't been the same since... well, since we found out about this. Gramps and you and even me, though not me as much as you. What is it? What happened?”

He shook his head. “All you've seen of your grandfather's world is the good parts. It doesn't always work like that, darling. The universe is full of things darker than you can imagine. The stuff I saw as a detective was bad enough, but you add aliens into it and it's... it's a nightmare. That's all it is.”

She shook her head. “I don't believe that. And you were having fun until Gramps showed up.”

“Because it wasn't about aliens. It wasn't about being the unholy freak that I am.”

Daisy crossed the kitchen, going over to wrap her arms around him. “I wish you'd tell me the truth for once. I don't want to be angry with you, but I am. I'm also worried, and that's worse. I hate being worried when I'm mad at you.”

He leaned his head against hers. “Go back out and enjoy yourself. You needn't stay in with a grumpy sod like me.”

She sighed. “Dad, just tell me. Please.”

“You already know I've done things I'm not proud of,” he said. “That's really all you need to know.”

* * *

“I've only heard of one Time Lord ever wanting to settle on another planet,” the Doctor mused, frowning as he looked at the house. The odd weather was what had brought him here, or so he assumed, but it was very curious that he would encounter another Time Lord here, and not just any Time Lord—one with a very human child and who had once stolen the Doctor's favorite scarf. “And that most certainly is not him.”

The woman who'd spoken before nodded. “I don't think he's like any Time Lord you've ever known.”

“Strictly speaking, that's not true,” the Doctor told her. “As I have met him before. He was a child at the time, and I'm not sure why he's denying that he took my scarf and claiming it was his father's, but that is most assuredly the same one.”

She frowned. “You're sure of that?”

The Doctor shrugged. “Within a certain margin of error.”

“I'm not even going to ask,” she said. She shook her head, looking out at the snow. “Do you think you can find whatever it is that's affecting the weather?”

“Most definitely,” the Doctor agreed. “What concerns me, though, is that another Time Lord was here, permitting its alterations. I suppose it wouldn't have to be a sinister thing—he did seem quite playful when I first observed him, but then sometimes madness exhibits itself in ways one would not expect.”

“That's... true,” she said, expressing her doubt in her voice. He gave her a look, wondering just how close she was to this strange Time Lord. “I just... I can't see him putting his daughter in danger no matter how much of a wanker he is.”

The Doctor frowned. “Interesting, again. I've never known any other Time Lords to express any sort of... sentiment toward humans that wasn't a form of disdain. Well, no, there was Chronitis, and I suppose there's myself, but it is strange. The whole thing is. How long ago did he settle here, this... Time Lord?”

She grimaced. “Um... he hasn't, actually. He was here, and then he was going to leave, but you—I mean, things happened to keep him here, and—how bad is for you to know your future?”

He frowned again. “My future? Well, there's a risk to knowing too much about anyone's future, even more so one's own. What makes you ask that? Wait—you're not suggesting that he's somehow connected to _my_ personal future, are you?”

She swallowed. “Can we just find this alien and end the snow?”

“Well, yes, but that doesn't answer all of the questions,” the Doctor told her. “And if this does have something to do with my future, it wouldn't do to go stumbling in blindly.”

“You're saying I should tell you about the future so you don't go mucking up right now?”

“Well, now,” the Doctor began, not entirely sure that he could answer that. “On the one hand, there is a chance it could preserve the timelines by knowing enough about the future to make the decisions exactly as expected. Or, in knowing the future and trying to make it happen, I'd make the wrong choice. It's a very complicated thing, time.”

“I have got another bloody headache. I swear, talking to you is like asking to be hit in the head with a bat and then run over by a car.”

The Doctor frowned. “I beg your pardon? I've never met you before. Or have I? I suppose if you do have information about my future, you might have met a future version of me. Intriguing. And terrible. Absolutely terrible.”

“It is?”

“Of course,” he said, and she put a hand to her head. “What else could it be?”


	3. Time for Cocoa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A regrouping in Ellie's kitchen leads to some progress on the possible alien and a few complications to do with family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I narrowed down part of the problem I have with writing Four. I can usually (not always, but mostly) hear the dialogue in my head like the characters are saying it, and whenever I lose that sense/can't hear it, I'm afraid it's not in character. Hard as I try with Four, I haven't yet heard his voice on more than a few of his words.
> 
> It's very disconcerting and keeps me thinking I must have him all wrong, despite my best efforts.

* * *

“That actually smells good,” Miller said as she came into the house. Hardy gave her a look. Of course Daisy had bias, but she said she preferred his cocoa to anyone else's, and yet Miller had assumed he was incapable of making cocoa at all. She probably also thought he couldn't cook anything since all she'd seen him make was the salad he had to eat for his heart.

That had been fixed—not just moderated by a pacemaker, but actually fixed, so he didn't have to watch what he ate anymore, which was a good thing, since his father didn't seem to realize that people might have dietary restrictions at all, taking them to alien planets and then for chips afterward.

“You have to try it,” Daisy said, holding out the cup that was supposed to be his. Hardy frowned, watching Miller take it and drink from it.

“Ooh,” Miller said, turning back toward the door. “Tom, I'm not sure I love you more than Hardy's chocolate.”

Hardy winced. “Bloody hell, Miller. Never heard of an inside voice?”

She shrugged. “Tom's outside.”

“The Time Lord with super-hearing is inside,” Daisy said. “And a bit grumpy.”

“You gave away my cocoa. Of course I'm bloody grumpy,” he muttered, setting about making himself a new cup. He turned to grab another spoon, not sure where the one he'd been using disappeared to, and when he went back to stir it, his father had the cup in hand.

“I think I can see why the ladies praise this so highly,” the Doctor said after taking a sip. “I do believe I experienced something similar to this on Peraxis V. Of course, the best I ever had was probably on Daprohines VII. There are other planets made of chocolate, but none taste quite like they do there. Or was that the one where it was illegal to eat it? Now I've gone and confused myself.”

“Planets made out of chocolate? This is a real thing, Hardy?”

“A planet made of chocolate,” Daisy said, “that I want to see. Do you think we could?”

“Aye. Just as soon as you invent a spaceship that travels faster than light,” he told her, and she rolled her eyes. He didn't know why she'd bothered asking. He didn't have—or want—a spaceship of his own. She couldn't even ask her grandfather, not right now. Maybe if the other one showed up, but until then—no.

“Is that your requirement for travel with you?” the Doctor asked. “You're rather in the wrong time period to make that demand, though if that's intentional, it's rather genius. I've often wondered if it would be worth screening my companions. Some were decidedly less helpful or welcome than others.”

“I think his tests would be so bloody exasperating that no one would pass them,” Miller said, smiling. “You have no idea how much of knob he is to work for.”

“Would I really have to pass a test?” Daisy asked, looking like she might hug him. He waited, and sure enough, she did, giving him a look meant to be innocent but was a bit too calculated for that. “Dad?”

“I don't know,” he told her. “You did give away my cocoa.”

She giggled, and he thought he heard Miller laughing, too. The Doctor looked between all of them and then took out another candy, dunking it in his cocoa before eating it.

“Um, Doctor,” Miller began, either grossed out by the jelly baby going into the cocoa or trying to end the awkwardness, “about that whole... terrible thing—”

“What terrible thing?”

She grimaced. “You forgot already? It was just five minutes ago. You were concerned because he hadn't done anything about the alien affecting the weather, and then you didn't like the idea of me knowing a future you. You said it was terrible.”

Hardy almost smiled. “I think anyone would fear knowing you in the future, Miller.”

“Wanker,” she said at the same time as Daisy gave him a small smack with a rebuking, “Dad.”

“You rather remind me of someone,” the Doctor said, looking Hardy over. “Can't think of who it is now. I have known quite a few people in the last seven hundred and fifty years, after all.”

“But you're nine hundred,” Daisy said, and Hardy gave her a look. She grimaced. “Sorry. Um...”

“I take it you know a future version of me, too? Romana would say that I lost track of a few years—too many centuries blurring the lines—but then she always thought she was right. As though a triple first at the Academy means anything. I know you agree. I remember your sentiment about the Academy quite well. Still one of the most accurate and amusing assessments of that institution and its alumni I have ever heard.”

“Oh? And just what did he say?” Miller asked. “This I want to hear.”

“Careful, Miller. There are children present.”

“Dad, I am fifteen, not a baby.”

“Who said I was talking about you?” He said, and Daisy frowned, since Miller and the Doctor were the only others inside. Miller glared at him, but he thought he'd amused his father all over again. He didn't know why that mattered. This version of his father wasn't the same. He didn't understand, and he didn't remember. It was better to send him on his way before he learned things he shouldn't. 

Best to send him on his way again quickly. “I think the alien you came to find is a Hoelf.”

* * *

“Hoelf?” Ellie repeated, on the one hand not sure she wanted to know and on the other, so mad she would gladly shove Hardy out into that snow drift and bury him there so he froze to death—if she didn't give him a worse kicking than she'd given Joe. He'd known all along what this alien was, that it was affecting the weather, and he hadn't done a damned thing about it. “What the hell is a Hoelf?”

“A very rare thing indeed. If you're experiencing a visit from one of them, you should consider yourself almost... honored,” the Doctor said, shaking his head. “Some even among my people thought they must have been myths.”

“You realize you didn't explain anything there, right?” Ellie asked. She bit back saying something about Hardy's father being even more obnoxious than he was. She couldn't let them get sidetracked or risk timelines. They needed to end the strange weather before someone got hurt.

“Hoelf are non-corporeal beings. According to some of the myths, they existed as pure emotion,” Hardy said. “They're more likely trans-dimensional or pan-dimensional, though as no one has ever seen one, it's difficult for them to be sure. Even the Time Lords didn't spend much effort into tracking them down. The only signs of their possible presence were extreme sometimes catastrophic changes in the weather and noticeable shifts in the... tone of a place.”

“The tone?”

The Doctor nodded. “Hoelf were said to be attracted to places of great upheaval. The reason Time Lords noticed them was because they seemed to come after large, sometimes devastating alterations to the timelines. They were sort of like... the universe's way of fixing some of the damage, and in a much less destructive way than say, reapers.”

Ellie rubbed her head. “Reapers?”

“Beings linked to time itself. They hunt paradoxes, wounds in time, any sort of large temporal displacement. They sterilize the environment, devour everything.”

Daisy swallowed, looking up at her dad, the original paradox. “Could those things come here?”

“Not to fret, young lady. My people have ways of countering them,” the Doctor said. “As long as the Time Lords exist, the universe is safe from the reapers and in relative balance.”

Ellie looked over at the others. Daisy was far from reassured, and Hardy didn't even bother pretending to agree with him. Oh, bloody hell. This Doctor didn't know he was the last of them. Of course. Ellie should have seen it sooner, but she'd been preoccupied by Hardy's behavior. No wonder he was lying to his father—telling him about his son would mean telling him _why_ he was so desperate to keep a half-human hybrid alive.

“I am rather curious as to why you'd think that a Hoelf would be drawn here, though. This isn't the site of a war or any known alteration to time—” The Doctor frowned at Ellie when she snorted, looking at Hardy. “Oh. Have you altered a timeline here?”

“No,” Hardy said, and he shook his head when Ellie started to protest. “I haven't. There are people who would want me to, if they'd known about the time traveling bit.”

“She knows you're a Time Lord but not that you travel in time?”

Hardy swore under his breath. “While I imagine there is a part of Miller that wishes I could go back and stop her husband from murdering a child, no. She's well aware of what Time Lords can do. The people who are not are the boy's parents and the rest of this town, which was ripped apart by the shock and their own fears. They turned on a man here, hounded him to death, thanks in part to the bloody obnoxious reporters. Fifty-nine days that investigation dragged on, suspicion dividing everyone, and then it turned out it was someone no one suspected. That same bastard refused to plead guilty and put the town through a nightmare of a trial and managed to walk free.”

“There's scars, then, the sort of thing that might attract a Hoelf, but why here instead of somewhere else?”

Ellie pointed to Hardy. “They find him. That shadow thing that was feeding off Joe's emotions. Claire the Flyboln, and even more than that in his past.”

“Flyboln?” the Doctor said. “I remember some discussion of something called that, but it was all theoretical. Are you saying someone actually _made_ one? Why would anyone allow such a horror? Was it the Master? Did he try to use it to take over a planet? No, no, that would have left everything dead. What use would it be if the Master had no one to rule?”

There was that name again. The Master. Jack feared him, whoever he was, though none of them had explained much of that, either.

“There's a rift in time and space in Cardiff,” Hardy told him. “At least two aliens have drifted here after coming through there, one coming with the killer, who had already ended a life in Cardiff unknown to anyone here. The other one—I have no idea how she ended up in Sandbrook, but she did come down here eventually.”

“And this somehow centers on you?”

Hardy was a half-human, half-Time Lord hybrid apparently created with some alteration by the time vortex and the TARDIS, so... yes, but Ellie didn't think they could tell the Doctor that.

“No. Miller likes to assume I control everything alien that ever was because I irritate her, but there are dozens of small invasions happening everywhere around the universe and this planet that haven't a bloody thing to do with me.”

“Didn't the Doc—didn't he say part of it had to do with you being at some of those sites and not having proper shielding for a telepath?” Ellie asked, and he glared at her.

“It's not like I hear every single thought you say,” Hardy snapped. “It takes concentration and physical contact, and I haven't even tried with you. I wouldn't even think I was capable of that at all if not for the bond I share with Daisy.”

The Doctor looked between the two of them warily, and Ellie had no idea what he was thinking. She almost thought she'd rather have the one in pinstripes back because for all his rambling and confusing talk, he did actually say what was on his mind half the time, but she had no idea what to think of this one, no basis to know how he was going to react.

“You two share a familial bond? A telepathic one?”

“It's not like I hear Dad in my head,” Daisy said. She shrugged. “I just get senses sometimes. When he's close, when he's hurt, when something's bothering him. For him, it's stronger. I think. He doesn't really talk about it.”

The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. He held out a candy to her, and she took it, chewing on it absently. He did the same, starting to pace. “We need to be certain that this is actually the work of a Hoelf. They're not the only species capable of altering the weather. Making snow is almost like child's play. A single adjustment by a sonic screwdriver, and suddenly you're Father Christmas. Still not sure I care for the comparison.”

“You're thinner, if that helps,” Ellie told him. “Though not as much of a twig as he is.”

“Bloody hell, Miller,” Hardy snapped. He turned to the Doctor. “How far away is the TARDIS, and can we use it to eliminate any other possible sources of the atmospheric disturbance?”

“Well, the answer to the second question is an obvious yes, but that leaves me with another one. How is it you don't have a TARDIS of your own?”

Hardy shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he walked away, going back out into the cold.

* * *

“I see he has a classic artistic temperament,” the Doctor observed as he watched the other man leave, still working on what he knew and trying to piece them together in the proper order, well aware that everyone had been keeping something from him. He should be angrier, he supposed, though he was aware it would serve little purpose. He didn't even want to know much about his own future. “Rather common for Time Lords, I'm afraid.”

“I don't know that it's all genetic,” Miller said. “A part of him seems to enjoy being a jerk to everyone—and that's not a Time Lord trait.”

“You know so many of them, do you?” the Doctor countered, thinking that some of them had taken the 'lord' part of their name too far. “Trust me when I say that a great many of my contemporaries would not be so willing to even have this conversation right now. They see me as a bit of anomaly—that's putting it rather kindly—when it comes to interactions with you humans. Even I wouldn't really have thought it of myself in my first go round.”

“Dad's just been a cop for too long,” Daisy said, giving the Doctor another reason to frown. Was this other Time Lord connected to UNIT? But then why call him a cop when he would be a soldier? Or was he in that nebulous position of 'consultant' that the Doctor himself had occupied? “He sees the worst in everyone and everything. I'll go see if I can coax him back with my fail attempt at his cocoa.”

She took a travel mug out, poured the concoction into it, and went after her father. The Doctor thought back over her words and those of the Time Lord calling himself her father, still puzzled by what seemed to be missing here.

He turned back to the woman. “Miller, is it?”

“Yes, though I prefer Ellie.”

“Ellie,” the Doctor agreed. “I know he's not me because I am well aware of what it feels like to encounter one of my previous selves—and I imagine it would be much the same with a future one, though I rarely recall the events of any encounter like that until I meet them again. I know he's not me. However, there is something here that is just a bit... askew from what it should be. I rather wish I'd brought K-9 along, but I didn't think he'd do well in the snow, so I left him aboard the TARDIS.”

“I'm not sure what you expect me to say now.”

“You could tell me what they exiled him for,” the Doctor said, and she frowned at him. “I suppose my future self might not have told you, but it did happen to me. I was left here, on Earth, my TARDIS disabled and my mind... Well, best not to speak of my mind. Tell me, is that what happened to him?”

Ellie shook her head. “Not exactly. Well... I suppose you could say he was left on Earth without a TARDIS.”

“Explains a great deal of bitterness,” the Doctor said, well aware of how much that situation had chafed. He still thought about it with anger, and he was long since free to travel as he pleased. “No matter. Come on, Ellie. We have work to do.”

“I'm not going with you.”

“You're not?”

“I've got children of my own to look after,” she said. “Tom, he should be fine, but he gets tired of his brother fast, and I won't have my two year old freezing to death out there. You aliens—why do you have to come here and cause problems for all of us?”

“I didn't do this,” the Doctor said, rather offended by the accusation. He had nothing to do with bringing the Hoelf here, if it was a Hoelf, and even if it wasn't, he wasn't responsible for that, either. This was nothing to do with him, though he might be able to help fix it. “And I thought you wanted to see this weather end.”

“Don't do that,” she said, wincing. “Don't look at me like that. This is not on me. I am so sick of people doing that—he's one of the worst, pulling me into this crap and then blaming me when I get too involved or don't do it exactly as he said, and I'm not doing this with you. I am not.”

“Of course not,” he agreed, heading toward the door. “Come on, then. TARDIS is this way.”


	4. Time for Contradictions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hardy and Daisy find the TARDIS. The Doctor makes a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent the last few days immersing myself back in all the episodes with Four, and I tried hard to include some of the habits that he showed in them. I feel somewhat better about writing him, though I'm still nervous and feeling like I'm not doing him justice. It did take most of the day to get through this, and hopefully that was enough.

* * *

“Are you sure this is the way we should go?” Daisy asked, shivering beside him. Hardy grimaced, wishing she hadn't followed him. The snow was getting worse, and with it the risk of hypothermia and frostbite. A few minutes playing outside was nothing, but hours in this would be fatal.

He should have stopped this sooner.

“Yes,” he said. He might not have the town memorized yet, and the snow would confuse the landmarks he had learned, but he was still enough of an alien to where he could sense something from the TARDIS. He thought that had to do with his theory of the disturbance being caused by a Hoelf, since he didn't think the TARDIS made as much effort to talk to anyone outside her as she would in these circumstances. “See?”

“Oh, you're good,” Daisy told him, smiling and giving his scarf a tug. “What happens if the TARDIS won't let us in?”

Hardy hadn't thought that far. He supposed this time his father's ship wouldn't recognize them, since this was before his birth, being sent back in time, or any of the times he'd crossed his father's path. Then again, the TARDIS had sent the Doctor and Rose to find him before those things as well, so maybe it didn't matter. She was a sentient being with the time vortex inside her. She might know a great deal that no one suspected.

“We'll see what happens. At worst, we have to go back to him.”

Daisy nodded. “Is it terrible of me to like this sort of thing? Chasing after aliens and trying to save the world and all that?”

“We're not chasing aliens or saving the world,” Hardy said, and she rolled her eyes, taking the chain that held her key off her neck to unlock the door. She pushed it open and stepped inside, shaking off her scarf as she stared at the room.

Hard to miss how different this place was from the one they'd been in before. Even Hardy had a moment trying to decide if it was the same ship. No coral, no odd lighting, just a bunch of white. White with circles, and he had no idea of that served any useful purpose or not.

“Alert,” a robotic voice said. “Intruders.”

“K-9,” Daisy said, smiling at the dog. “Oh, this is great. I've missed you since Gran took you off to investigate something near Luke.”

“That statement is false,” the dog said. “We have never met.”

“K-9, are you capable of synchronizing yourself with... other versions of you?” Hardy asked, faltering at the end when his question sounded stupid to his own ears. “There's one in this time period that would explain a lot of things. Though, honestly, all you need is directive nine.”

The dog hesitated, and he heard the whirring as it did a scan. “Readings in conflict. Hybrid lifeform should not exist. Suggest my scanner is in need of repair.”

“It isn't,” Hardy told him. “Just... ask your other self what directive nine is, and once you have that, you can ignore the rest.”

The dog got quiet, and Daisy went to the console, looking at the center piece that was so different from the way she'd seen the time vortex before. She reached a hand out to it and then stopped, looking back at him.

“If the alien doing this is trying to fix things, why is the weather so wrong?”

“I'd assume it was because he didn't know that he was causing any damage. If it is a Hoelf—and it is possible it isn't, though I would rather it was so that the alteration in weather wasn't malicious but an accident versus someone hoping to kill us—then it's a being that's pure emotion, Daize. Weather doesn't mean anything to him. It doesn't understand temperature or climate extremes.”

“Makes sense,” she agreed. “So... how do we find out if it's a Hoelf or something else?”

Hardy looked at the unfamiliar console and frowned. He didn't know. He was used to the TARDIS in its other state, and he wasn't sure he knew what half this stuff did. He was going to need some time to figure out which controls were which.

He felt a nudge in his head and winced, still not comfortable with the ship's presence in his mind. “I can figure some of this out on my own, thank you.”

“What?”

“Not you. The TARDIS.”

Daisy frowned. “The TARDIS is talking to you? Why isn't she doing that to me?”

“I don't think you want that,” Hardy told her, but then again, she seemed to enjoy all of this, every single bit that came along with their partial alien heritage. She'd like having a ship in her head and telepathy, unlike him. He'd used it twice, once by accident, and while it had gotten Donna what she needed to fight the Daleks, he didn't want to do it again.

“I want to help,” Daisy said. “I just need to know what to do. K-9, how do we find a Hoelf?”

“Negative. Cannot be done. Hoelf are mythical creatures. They do not exist.”

* * *

Once again, Ellie was following after a Time Lord, grumbling to herself as she did. She shouldn't be doing this. She had intended to go back to her boys, not get involved in this again. She did not need or want it. Aliens were Hardy's business, whether he liked it or not. He was the one that knew about this sort of thing, it was his father that was the main alien around here, and there hadn't been aliens in Broadchurch before he came here.

She didn't care what they said about those fossils—Hardy had been the one to find them, and that just confirmed what she already knew.

“Are you sure we're going the right way?” Ellie asked, looking over at the Doctor.

“Yes.”

“You didn't lose the TARDIS in the snow?”

“Lose my ship? Me?” the Doctor demanded. “I think I would know where my ship should be. Why would you think I wouldn't?”

“The freakish weather and near blizzard we're stuck in the middle of right now?” Ellie asked, shaking her head at him. “The common has enough snow in it to start sledding, and if you've been parked for very long, even your TARDIS could be covered in snow.”

The Doctor looked at her, and then he shrugged. “Oh, well, I suppose it's possible, but somewhat unlikely. I wouldn't imagine the TARDIS would stand for such a thing, and besides, I've found a trail.”

Ellie frowned, looking over at where he was pointing, grinning at her. “You're assuming that Hardy and Daisy are on their way to your TARDIS? How can you be sure of that?”

“I'm not, but it seems rather likely, don't you think? He did ask about it, after all, and the thing a Time Lord stranded without a TARDIS would like the most is, in fact a TARDIS.”

“You don't know Hardy. He's very determined not to be involved in anything alien. He'd like to forget he is one,” Ellie said. The Doctor frowned at her, and she shrugged. “You already know he's not the sort of Time Lord you're used to. Why should this be any different?”

“Oh, well, they can surprise you. Romana certainly did. And the Master has, unfortunately. I'd rather not dwell too much on that,” the Doctor said. He pointed ahead of them. “There, you see? The TARDIS. And isn't she a lovely sight?”

“I suppose we should go in.”

“Well, yes, but that's odd,” the Doctor said. “I know I said that the likely place for him to go was the TARDIS, but he wasn't supposed to find it, and if he did, he should have been waiting outside it. I can't see even a Time Lord waiting about in this weather, and if he's as concerned about the girl as you claim—and I can't see why he wouldn't be, she does call him 'Dad' and act as though he is her father—then why would he wander off?”

“And, what, it's absolutely inconceivable that he could have gotten the TARDIS open?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

Ellie was going to enjoy this. Far more than she should. She stepped forward, pushed the TARDIS door all the way open, and went inside. She stopped just in the door, staring at the room. This was a change, very bright and white. Almost... clean and sterile and not fitting for the Doctor, at all.

“How did you do that?” the Doctor demanded, coming in behind her.

“I didn't,” Ellie told him, nodding to the pair at the console. “They did.”

“They?” the Doctor asked, moving past her to get a better look. He frowned at Hardy and Daisy. “How did you get into my ship? K-9, why didn't you stop them?”

The robotic dog rolled around the other side of the console. “I am unable to answer that, Master.”

“What?” the Doctor asked, running a hand through his curls in confusion. “Of course you can answer that. Your memory cells are intact, aren't they?”

“Affirmative.”

The Doctor gestured to him. “Then answer.”

“Unable to comply,” K-9 said, and Daisy seemed to be trying to hide laughter. “Directive nine requires that I do not respond.”

“Directive nine?” the Doctor repeated, shaking his head. “There is no such directive. I would know. I programmed you myself.”

“Master Alec updated my programming,” the dog informed him. “I am unable to comply.”

“Master Alec?” The Doctor shook his head, curls going a bit wild as he did. “No, no, this isn't right. There's a fault in your programming. There's no such person.”

“I keep telling him that,” Hardy muttered. “For some reason, he still won't use the right name.”

* * *

“You're Alec?” the Doctor asked, trying to make sense of what was happening in his TARDIS. No stranger, not even a Time Lord, should have been able to gain access so easily, nor should they have been able to reprogram his dog so quickly. K-9 had switched loyalties before, under duress, of course, but this shouldn't be happening.

“No.”

“Don't listen to him,” Ellie said. “He is. He just hates his name.”

“Admittedly, it is not particularly Time Lord-ish. It's not even Gallifreyan,” the Doctor observed, watching the other man as he spoke. Romana's name had been rather a burden, and yet, she'd seemed to like it, wanting to keep it at its full length, rather than shorten it to a manageable level. What was so wrong with Alec? Short, easy to remember, all very useful in a companion. “Still, it's not a terrible name. What makes you dislike it?”

The other man ignored him. “Don't touch that, Daisy. Don't want to send us off to god knows where.”

“What?” Ellie asked, going closer to the others, apparently wanting a better look at the console.

“Randomizer,” the Doctor answered. He rather liked it, and it had been very useful in disrupting the Black Guardian's plans. “He's right, best not to touch it. Still, how is it you know so much about my TARDIS? I didn't tell you, and I know that's not a standard part of the operating mechanism. Even Romana didn't recognize it, she of the triple first.”

“That's what you want to argue about?” Hardy—no, Alec, it was Alec, wasn't it?—said. “K-9 refused to scan for Hoelf as they do not exist, but if we're going to prove it's not a Hoelf, there's work to do. You could be doing it.”

“This is my TARDIS.”

“I'm well aware of that.”

The Doctor crossed over to him. “I want to know what it is you're playing at. Obviously, if you were attempting to steal the TARDIS, you've rather bungled that by taking too long. If you'd flipped that randomizer, you'd already have made off with the whole works. You're still here, but you didn't intervene in the atmospheric disturbance before, and I'm afraid I just don't understand what you're after.”

“I'm not a bloody thief.”

“Well, we did establish you were rubbish at it,” the Doctor said, earning a glare for that statement. “Ah, I see you've started a scan of the area. Looks to be near complete. No signs of advanced technology or temporal anomalies. My, that does present a bit of a conundrum, doesn't it?”

“Not if you consider it proof of a Hoelf.”

“Actually, even if it is proof, it's still a conundrum,” the Doctor said, aware of the looks coming his way. “Hoelf are mythical, theoretical at best. How do you contact a being that is pure emotion?”

Ellie frowned. “What about... telepathically?”

The Doctor started to pace, thinking aloud. “Emotions are very interesting and complex. Not quite a language, but close enough in some ways. Still not really useful as far as communication goes. How would you even be sure that you had achieved contact? No, that's no good at all. You'd need something else, something that would establish two-way communication. Ordinary words would hardly be of any use, since again, how to be sure of the response? Though—I know, telepathy.”

“Isn't that what I asked?”

“Still, that presents yet another problem,” the Doctor said. “You'd need a very strong telepath to make it work, and while I have some ability in that respect myself, even I couldn't do that alone. Emotions would require a lot to translate, and I don't have a group of Mentiads to assist me.”

“What are Mentiads?” Daisy asked, frowning.

“Mentiads are telepaths from the planet Zanak,” K-9 answered. “They were of assistance to the Doctor in defeating Queen Xanxia.”

“I don't see any of them here, though.”

“No, they're not here. So we have a problem.”

“Wait,” Ellie said. “If all you need is more telepaths... can't you just use another one?”

“No.”

The Doctor looked across the room. “You know, there are two Time Lords here. That could possibly be enough. Yes, I'm glad I thought of it. Now if we can get your mind and mine together, perhaps with the aid of the TARDIS—”

“Excuse me, that was my idea,” Ellie said. “Did you not hear me say it just a second before you did? What is wrong with you?”

“Miller,” Alec said, and she looked at him. “It doesn't matter. It won't work.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Now that is a good question,” the Doctor agreed. “Why wouldn't it work? You think we don't have enough telepaths? Admittedly, we're not many in number, but we are Time Lords. I should think that should count for something.”

“No, it doesn't.”

The Doctor frowned. “Why would you say that? Of course it does.”

“Not with me,” Alec insisted. “Find a different way.”

“I should think we could at least attempt it before dismissing it, don't you? I know you have a reluctance to be involved, but if you're not stealing the TARDIS and running away, then I would think you'd be concerned with this area of the Earth and what might happen to it,” the Doctor said. “It's really a simple matter of—”

“It's not, and you're not going in my head.”

“Hardy,” Ellie interrupted. “I know you think that you can't let him know too much of the future, but if this stops the snow, it's got to be worth it. After all, he can forget, can't he?”

“It's one thing to forget when the future's still ahead of him, but it's another to forget when he is going into—no. I said no, I mean no. It's not happening.”

“I don't understand,” the Doctor said, turning to Ellie. “Care to enlighten me?”

She let out a breath. “He's not a full Time Lord. He's your son.”


	5. Time for Admission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hardy disagrees with the other's plans to tell the Doctor about the future and with how to stop the Hoelf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I actually thought I heard Four when I was writing this, which was nice, though it was also difficult to write. The reactions went wrong even when the dialogue was passable. Still, it is progress, and there actually was a funny bit I had to move to later because it didn't work with the flow of the scene. I won't spoil it, but I think people will like it.

* * *

“I believe that we've already had this conversation,” the Doctor began. “Someone is confused. More than a little confused. That's not just highly unlikely, but one could almost say that it was, in fact, rather im—”

“Oh, bloody hell, not again,” Hardy said, annoyed. Why did this have to happen every single time? Not that it helped that Miller had gone and blabbed her big mouth about it. The Doctor did not need to know this time, and this could have been avoided. Instead, he had to listen to yet another version of his father say he shouldn't exist.

“Time Lords don't reproduce the way I think you're used to,” the Doctor began, giving a sort of apologetic smile to Daisy and then to Miller. “That said, a child of mine would be... a Time Lord. Full Time Lord, assuming they somehow managed to convince me—or order me, I suppose that could be done, though I can't see myself complying—to Loom another child.”

“Loom?” Daisy asked. “What, like a jumper?”

“No, darling, and that is definitely not the case with me,” Hardy said. He thought he saw a bit of a smile on Miller's face and crossed over to her side. He pushed her toward the door. “Right. You've done enough. You can go.”

“Hardy, stop it. I'm not—”

“Out. Go. Stay,” he said, giving her a final push, aided by the snow to get her on her way. He pulled the door shut behind him, certain she'd start pounding on it in a minute, but he didn't think she could get in, and his father hadn't given her a key, so that was settled.

“Dad,” Daisy protested. “It's not Ellie's fault. We would have had to tell him eventually.”

“No, we wouldn't,” Hardy said, because he would have found a way around it. “I wasn't Loomed. I'm the product of a human altered by the time vortex and the TARDIS... and you. It doesn't mean anything, so far is more trouble than it's worth, and I still won't let you in my head, so Miller told you to no purpose.”

“Me and a human?” the Doctor asked, frowning. “That's a rather inflammatory accusation, isn't it? That isn't to say there haven't been rumors about me since my departure from Gallifrey, and people do mock me for my fondness for humans, but to actually reproduce with one... I still find it very unlikely, even if you do know a future version of me.”

“I'm going to strangle Miller.”

“Dad.”

Hardy shook his head. “Don't bother, Daize. I won't be appeased.”

She folded her arms over her chest, about to start in on another lecture. 

He turned to his father first. “I didn't want to have this conversation. You don't want to have it. Just forget it happened and go on your way. There's got to be something else, some other way of making contact with the Hoelf. It probably involves telepathy, but you can do it without me.”

“Yes, I suppose I could,” the Doctor agreed, “though I am not sure I even know where to begin to create a device like that. Certain technology can be modified, of course, but even so... amplifying my own abilities might not be enough.”

Hardy put a hand to his head, rubbing his temple. “Start with the technology, then. What might work? What wouldn't? Something that turns emotion into a visible spectrum. That exists. I'm sure of it K-9, there is some sort of—”

“Answering that is a violation of directive nine part six. I cannot mention the prior conversation you had with a similar unit.”

“Again with the directive nine,” the Doctor muttered, shaking his head in disapproval. “I do wish you hadn't messed with my computer.”

“The whole point was to make it so you didn't find out more than was absolutely necessary. Miller went and ruined that by telling you I'm your son,” Hardy said. “All I did was restrict K-9 from telling you anything that had to do with me.”

“Affirmative.”

The Doctor gave him a look. “You are rather devious.”

“For a good reason, right, Dad? You're only doing it to try and... well, to spare Gramps a lot of pain,” Daisy said. “It's hard enough on us saying goodbye, but we know we'll see you again, but you have to forget for the timelines. We don't.”

“Yet if that was all you were sparing me, I doubt that your father would go to such lengths to avoid me knowing that he is my son,” the Doctor said. He met Hardy's eyes. “You're hiding a lot more than a difficult goodbye, aren't you?”

Damn Miller and her big mouth.

“I'm not telling you anything,” Hardy said. “And don't ask Daisy.”

“Oh? So she does know, does she?” the Doctor said, turning to her. “And you thought that the part about the goodbye would be enough?”

“Well,” she said, shrugging. “Kind of, yeah. I mean... it's worse for you even when you forget, because you're it. You forget us, and you're alone. You're the last of the Time Lords.”

* * *

“Impossible,” the Doctor said, looking at his supposed son for the denial that should be coming. Instead, he saw the man looking like he'd like to shove his daughter out into the snow as well. Affection was a strange thing, wasn't it? Then again, this wasn't about affection. “It can't be. I know I just left Romana behind not that long ago, but it's not as if she was the last of them. I know there's more. Gallifrey's still full of them. Arrogant, self-important, know-it-alls.”

“Daisy, go find Miller,” Alec said, nudging her toward the door. “Go on. Make sure she was able to get back to her sons and isn't lost in the snow.”

“You're mad at me now, aren't you?”

“A bit, yes, but I also want to talk to your grandfather alone,” he said, ushering her to the door. “I'd tell you to take K-9 with you, but I think he'd get stuck.”

“Dad—”

“Five minutes, Daisy. You have your key,” Alec told her. “Just... let me do this.”

She looked at him and then at the Doctor. He nodded, needing to know what the other man wouldn't tell him in front of her. Clearly, he was also sparing her, and while the Doctor was not certain he believed any of this, he would rather be informed.

“I wouldn't mind more of that cocoa when you return,” the Doctor told her, and she smiled at him before turning to leave. He waited for the door to shut completely before turning back to Alec. “This is the same reason you don't want me in your head, I assume.”

“Not the only reason,” Alec said. He looked at the TARDIS console. “I did try. Tried not to have to do this. You shouldn't have had to know.”

“It is quite a weight, then,” the Doctor said. He saw K-9 bump the other man's leg like he was trying to offer comfort. He doubted that directive nine was the only alteration to the dog's programming. “You know if it's in the future, I will forget it. You shouldn't feel so obligated to conceal it, and certainly not for my protection.”

“Would you rather I just told you that you destroyed Gallifrey?”

The Doctor stared at him. “Perhaps not. That... was a joke, wasn't it?”

“No,” Alec said. “It's not. There was... a war. The Time War. Last great one, I think you called it that once. Time Lords and Daleks, locked in endless battle, with innocent worlds trapped in the middle. Some of them died only to be brought back and killed again. Arcadia fell, and you decided the only way to end it was to use the Moment.”

“I told you this?”

“I saw it. In your head,” Alec said. “Gallifrey burned. And you hated yourself for it and wanted to die, but you lived. Regenerated and lived, carrying that guilt with you.”

The Doctor frowned. “I would much rather you were lying, yet I believe you're not. I shouldn't. I should be angry, tell you I'd never do such a thing. I'm not a violent man by nature. I avoid conflict. I run. I have been told I'm rather a coward. So the idea of me fighting in a war is rather—”

“Don't say impossible,” Alec told him. “Just... don't.”

“And yet I still feel it is,” the Doctor said, unable to deny it. He didn't want to believe that any such war could come that would drive him to that, even if he was a much different man at the time. “That cannot be my future.”

Alec eyed him with suspicion. “You don't believe me, do you?”

“Well, I believe you believe it,” the Doctor began, smiling. “And I do give you high marks for sincerity. That is almost always effective. I quite appreciate it. Thank you. Now if we could get back to the matter of the Hoelf, I think we should find a way to locate our telepathic friend.”

“Since you insist on not believing me, I think you'd better find a device for that.”

The Doctor frowned. “Oh, back to that, are we?”

“Exactly what did you think changed?”

“You told me the great secret you were trying to hide,” the Doctor said with a smile, reaching for another jelly baby. He pointed it at him. “Now that we've gotten that out of the way, we can attempt telepathic communication.”

“I hate you.”

“A moment ago you wanted to spare me pain. It was a very noble thing you did. I quite liked it. The sentiment was a nice touch. Sending away your daughter, all very theatrical. Nicely done.”

“Right, so this version of you is extremely delusional,” Alec said. “Good to know.”

* * *

“The girl will be back soon,” the Doctor said, breaking the awkward silence that had settled over the TARDIS. Hardy could feel the ship prodding at him, but he ignored it. He wasn't making nice with this version of his father, and it was all too likely that their conversation would deteriorate further. He didn't find the denial amusing, and the only reason he was still here was that he didn't trust this version of his father to deal with the Hoelf.

“And you haven't changed my mind,” Hardy told him. “I hate telepaths. I tolerated you, once. You were putting up shield because I didn't have any and it was driving me barmy, the sense I had of you in there. That was more than enough for me.”

The Doctor frowned. “No, you see, that doesn't explain anything. You said you allowed it once, and from the sound of it, it wasn't that unpleasant an experience. So what I have to wonder—no, what I must infer—from that is that you've had other encounters with telepaths that were far less pleasant.”

Hardy shook his head. “It doesn't matter.”

“It does,” the Doctor said. “That's the true reason you don't want to do this. It's not about what I might see. It's about someone else having attacked your mind. Was it another Time Lord? Is that why you deny them? Did it happen when you were exiled?”

Hardy wanted to shake some sense into him. He didn't have time for this. “It was the Vroeyth, now can we find a way of—”

“Vroeyth?”

“Telepathic species able to alter their appearances by thought,” K-9 reported. “Guilty of the illegal colonization of Sheon. Considered to be—”

“Yes, yes, I know all that, K-9,” the Doctor said. “I'm well aware of what they're capable of, and I know what they've done. I've never known them to be actually capable of harming a Time Lord's mind, though... I imagine them trying was difficult.”

Hardy glared at him. For one, he was only half Time Lord. For another, it had been a bloody nightmare. “The point is that I'm not doing this telepathically, so find another way.”

“There may not be any other way.”

Hardy shook his head, almost grateful to have the TARDIS doors open. Miller was carrying her youngest this time, and the older one's eyes were taking in the room in shock. He'd seen the TARDIS before, but not like this. Hardy almost thought this white, sterile room should belong to a different version of his father, definitely not the one who was practically a walking mess.

“Who said you could bring all that in here?” the Doctor demanded, gesturing to the newcomers. Daisy took his bag of jelly babies and passed one to Tom. “What do you think you're doing?”

“I had to bring them,” Daisy said, holding out a candy to Fred. He took it with a squeal, and she turned back to smile at her grandfather. “I'm not letting anyone freeze to death.”

“What?” Hardy asked, going over to the TARDIS console to check the temperature.

“It's no longer snowing,” Miller said. “The whole town is freezing over, and my heater stopped working. Beth and Mark have theirs going, but I don't know how long it will last. We have to do something fast, Hardy.”


	6. Time for the Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There seems to be only one solution to the problem, and Hardy does not like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had almost forgotten I wrote part of this before, and then I almost ruined it. And I'm not very sure about how the mental stuff works because with Ten they didn't show it and with Four it was a very... interesting special effect. I did my best with it, and I hope it works.

* * *

“And what do you expect me to do, Miller?” Hardy asked, folding his arms over his chest and looking at her. “Wave a magic wand and have all that snow go away, poof? Or should I snap my fingers?”

“You have a sonic screwdriver,” she said. “That should count for something. Ooh, look, Fred. There's the robot dog again. You want to say hi? No pulling his antennae this time.”

“I wouldn't advise that,” the Doctor told her, frowning as she brought her younger closer to the dog. “K-9 can be quite temperamental.”

Hardy would have let the robot laser Miller, maybe, but the child was another matter. “K-9, you were updated with directive eight, weren't you?”

“Affirmative, Master Alec. I understand the tiny sentient lifeform is not my enemy even if it attempts to damage my systems.”

“Excuse me, but will you kindly refrain from altering the programming of my computer?” the Doctor asked, turning back to him. “That's my dog you're interfering with, and suppose that directive causes problems? Unacceptable. Undo it. Now.”

“I can't,” Hardy told him. His father glared at him, but he shook his head. “I didn't add that directive. My father did. And that one superseded any of the alterations I made. It was the only reason that making them was possible. My mother always regretted asking for that, but she didn't want him using his lasers on me if I got curious.”

“Your mother?”

“One of them, at least,” Miller said. “What are we doing about the snow?”

“One of your mothers?”

“Not important. You don't believe the rest of it anyway,” Hardy told him. “K-9, how fast is the temperature dropping, and how much snow is on the ground?”

“Sensors indicate a drop in temperature at a rate of two degrees per ten minute interval.”

“Bloody hell,” Miller said. “The snow was bad enough, but we're all going to freeze now, and there's no getting out of here with as high as those drifts are.”

“Now that is interesting,” the Doctor said, frowning as he went for one of his damned candies. Daisy smiled at him, and he smiled back at her absently before returning to his train of thought. “How long was the weather like this? Did it all happen today?”

“No,” Miller answered. “At first, it was just odd stuff. Bit of rain, bit of wind, even a little hail, but the snow was only today.”

“All of that in a few short hours?” the Doctor asked, frowning. “That's quite an accumulation.”

“Or a negative correlation,” Hardy muttered. Then he frowned himself. “Or positive.”

“What?”

“If it is a Hoelf, it is trying to repair emotional damage. What happens when everyone starts to worry about the weather?” Hardy asked, and she swore. Then she looked at her son, who was laughing as he ate his candy.

“What about the people that were happy with the weather?” Daisy asked. “I was. You were. You had fun throwing snowballs, and I could have talked you into the fort if Ellie hadn't pushed you about the aliens and made you mad.”

Hardy grunted. He hadn't been happy, but he did like seeing Daisy in a good mood. The fact that she still loved her scarf meant he hadn't completely screwed up as a father, and it had been a nice bit of a reprieve, thinking of how best to get her with a packed ball of snow instead of about the Daleks he'd killed at the crucible or how else he'd damaged timelines.

“I imagine it's not enough to balance out the overwhelming sense of fear,” the Doctor said. “Snow is extremely out of season this time of year, isn't it? Some may enjoy the fluke, but others would panic, especially as the temperature decreased and the snowfall increased.”

“You can stop this, though,” Miller said. “Didn't you say that it was child's play for a Time Lord?”

“If Time Tots played games, yes,” the Doctor agreed. “I wouldn't consider the childhood of a Time Lord as particularly... carefree.”

“Time Tots?” Miller said. “Oh, God, is that really what you call your kids? Time Tots. Hardy, you were a Time Tot. Oh, that's brilliant.”

He glared at her. “I'm not a Time Lord. I'm a bloody freak of nature. And you're getting distracted. We're supposed to be finding a way to stop the Hoelf. I told him to find a bit of technology—”

“And I said it was simpler to attempt telepathic communication—”

“Actually, I said it, but you listen to me even less than he does,” Miller corrected. She turned toward him. “Daisy and I spilled the beans about him being your father—”

“What?” Tom asked. “I know that his father is an alien, but what about the guy in the pinstriped suit that looked younger than him?”

“Regeneration,” Daisy answered. “It's really complicated. We'll explain that later.”

“So why aren't you doing the telepathic thing?”

“The Vroeyth,” the Doctor answered. “Nasty, vicious things. Apparently, they caused him a great deal of distress in the past. Still, we have to try it. It's the most expedient possibility. K-9 can go through the TARDIS' inventory for a possible technological solution while we take the other route.”

“No.”

“I'm with the Doctor on this, Hardy,” Miller said, and he gave her another look. “We don't have time to waste. The colder it gets, the more people will panic, and then it'll get even colder.”

“Miller—”

“The Vroeyth are nothing to trifle with, I agree,” the Doctor said, “but I'm afraid your discomfort does not outweigh the potential loss of life in this instance. We still have to persuade it to stop, after all. That might not be possible, but the sooner we try, the sooner we know.”

Hardy didn't have to look at the room to know he was outnumbered. That was what happened the last time.

* * *

_“You are not with the others.”_

_Hardy looked up at the man at the foot of his desk. He took in the suit and frowned. Must be some sort of mistake. Not even the teachers wore suits, and he didn't know why anyone would come in here. He had chosen this room because most of the school avoided it._

_“You are in an unauthorized area.”_

_“It's not off limits,” Hardy said, frowning. Why did this guy care? He didn't even know him. He wasn't going to leave his spot. This was the best place on campus, and he wasn't giving it up, not for some stranger._

_“Your mind is... different.”_

_“What?”_

_“You are unique,” the man said, his voice sounding more robotic that before. Something about this man was wrong, and Hardy knew it. “You will come with us.”_

_Hardy shook his head. “I'm not going anywhere, and not with you.”_

_Images came into his mind, horrible creatures, the stuff of everyone's nightmares. They'd been in a movie, and he'd gone to see it because Ailie wanted to, so he actually knew what they were. He grabbed the side of his head and closed his eyes, trying to force the images out. He knew they weren't real, and he wasn't scared. The movie had been complete crap, and Ailie had spent most of the movie throwing popcorn at the screen._

_He swallowed, feeling sick, and he took a few deep breaths to calm his stomach. He refused to puke, not here. He wouldn't let them do this to him. He lifted his head and found himself looking at what used to be the man in the suit. Now it looked more like something from one of his mother's books._

_“You resist,” it said, hissing the word out. “Impossible.”_

_Hardy snorted. “Pick a real horror film next time.”_

_“Oh, we can do much better than a film.”_

* * *

The Doctor nodded, moving across to the other man, figuring a physical connection would help enhance the link between their minds. He put his hands to Alec's face, and was immediately assailed by images. For all that there had been a claim of shields, he was not overly impressed by them, but then these things seemed to be right there at the forefront of the mind, as though the ideas were not just the memories they appeared to be but also the conscious thought.

_She was dead. No denying it now. No hoping for anything else, no trying to believe she was just passed out. He couldn't lie to himself. She was cold. Her eyes were wide, unseeing, and her mouth hung in a half-finished scream. She'd died in pain, and he hadn't been able to stop it..._

_He hadn't done anything to help her. Hadn't helped anyone. She was dead, and he should be._

_Water everywhere, dripping. Soaked through, going under, struggling to breathe. The weight of the child in his arms, trying to drag him back under or make him collapse. He didn't know how he'd make it to the shore. She was so heavy for such a small girl..._

_A boy's body on a beach. Cliffs looming over him. Don't do this to me now..._

_It was Joe. A woman, bent over, gagging..._

_A button on a console. The end of an entire race. Wanting to walk away, but torn, knowing that countless lives could be lost if he let them live, but did that justify murder? She would do it, but he couldn't let her have that blood on her hands. She was innocent. He wasn't. The only thing he could do was spare her the guilt as he took it on himself..._

The Doctor almost pulled back, needing to get away from the intensity of those moments, to get to where they could have an actual conversation. The Mentiads had been easy in comparison, already used to functioning as a group unit, and he'd only asked them to focus with him as a sort of guide. This would be a lot more complicated.

“Are you doing that on purpose? Throwing horrific images at me as a sort of... defense?”

“I didn't want you seeing anything in my head,” Alec muttered. “Though you could consider it what you deserve.”

“That's hardly sporting,” the Doctor said. “I didn't do anything to you.”

“You're in my head, aren't you?”

“Never mind that now. Picture a door and shut anything you don't want me to see behind it,” the Doctor advised. Several doors slammed shut at the same time, and the Doctor found himself chuckling as he saw the doors in question. Castle fortresses should be envious of their solid nature, thick with metal framework, with far more locks than were necessary. And it was wood, too, making the sonic screwdriver useless against it. That was almost amusing. “Do you know, I don't think you've left anything out of those doors?”

“That was the point, wasn't it?”

“Perhaps not,” the Doctor said. “If you had wanted to convince me of your other claims, you might have let me see some more of those memories.”

“This isn't about that,” Alec said. “Find the damned Hoelf.”

“You're very demanding.”

“And everyone else is surprisingly quiet about all this.”

“Yes,” the Doctor agreed, though he already knew that part of it had to do with their separation from their audience. This conversation, while not entirely private, was between the two of them, connected as they were in their minds. “Tell me, what do you see right now? In this room, this very moment?”

Alec frowned. “It's the TARDIS. Your too bright obnoxious white TARDIS.”

“And who is in the TARDIS?”

“Bloody hell. It's just us.”

“Consider this a sort of... mental landscape. You experienced something close to it before, I'd imagine. Far less pleasant than this one, yes, but you've seen one in the past. The Vroeyth would have given you one intended to terrify you.”

“Made me angry. I don't like it when people mess with my mind.”

The Doctor smiled. Even if that was bravado, he rather liked the sentiment. “Now, let's see if we can find us a mythical creature.”

“And how do we do that?”

“I think we start by saying hello.”


	7. Time for Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a little help, the Doctor makes contact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was always sort of part of the plan, though it was difficult to get to, not even counting my trouble writing Four. I was pleased to note that I did actually hear his voice at time during the dialogue, which I hope is a good sign.

* * *

“Is it just me,” Ellie asked, watching the Doctor and Hardy, “or is that really weird?”

Daisy looked like she was trying not to laugh. It was pretty strange, the way that her father and the Doctor were talking to each other like no one else was there. Ellie could hear all of it, as could everyone else around them, which was a bit funny, too.

“No, they're really weird, Mum,” Tom said oh so helpfully. “Even weirder than normal.”

Daisy threw a jelly baby at him, and he let out a yelp, jumping backward and almost tripping over K-9 as he did. She giggled, and Ellie gave her a look, but Daisy kept on smiling, not the least bit remorseful.

“I'm not sure it's working, whatever it is they're doing,” Ellie said, though it was difficult to tell from here. Hardy looked pretty frustrated, and the Doctor might be losing his patience, too, but that wasn't that unusual for the two of them, either.

“We don't know that it's not,” Daisy said, but then she frowned, turning over to K-9. “Is it? Do you have any way of knowing?”

“Negative. I am unable to communicate on a psychic frequency,” the dog reported. “Suggest you wait for further instructions.”

Ellie sighed. That was all they had been doing for far too long, waiting for the Doctor or Hardy to do something. She should have pushed sooner. She could have forced Hardy do to something even if he was only working on it to shut her up. Maybe he would have built some sort of technology like he'd wanted to do, but it would be done by now, at least. “It's not like we're going anywhere, K-9. It's too damned cold outside, and the temperature's still dropping, right? I just wish there was some way of hurrying this up.”

“According to the TARDIS inventory, a device which has a zero point four chance of aiding in this mission is located in the library.”

“Zero point four?” Ellie repeated, shaking her head. Unbelievable. That was of no use at all, not that she really wanted to send anyone looking for the library. She didn't know this TARDIS at all, and the other one was too easy to get lost in.

“Affirmative.”

“Is there anything with a better chance of success anywhere?”

“Insufficient data. Partial data suggests many possibilities exist, but it is doubtful to say which might be of use without further testing. Many planets have some form of weaponry or device that might have some limited application. Hoelf are myths, and therefore no testing has ever been done.”

Ellie rubbed her head. She didn't want to understand that, though she did wish the dog was a bit more helpful. What was she saying? She was talking about a bloody robotic dog, for Christ's sake. “And if it's not a Hoelf, would there be anything we could do?”

“Doubtful, mistress.”

Ellie sat down against the wall. “Then I guess we wait.”

* * *

“That was completely bloody pointless.”

Daisy looked up at her father's words, seeing him stumble away from the Doctor. He grabbed hold of the console and leaned over it, cursing under his breath. She grimaced, forcing herself to her feet. She crossed over to his side, putting her hand on his arm.

He looked at her with a sigh, and she gave him a hug of her own free will.

“It was hardly pointless,” the Doctor disagreed. “We needed to see if the telepathic field would work, and I'm afraid it seems too limited to work as it is. We need a way of increasing it. An additional telepath would be best, though we might be able to construct some sort of rudimentary device that could increase the mental field. Seems to me there was something like that on a planet I visited once. I can't remember what the name of it was now. Barflax? Bemouth? Oh, now that's going to irritate me.”

“Another telepath?” Ellie asked. “Is that really the only way it works?”

“Well,” the Doctor began. “Strictly speaking, no, but it would help.”

Ellie rose, pointing at Daisy. “What about her?”

Daisy frowned. “I'm not telepathic.”

“Exactly,” the Doctor said. “She's human. Absolutely useless. Not any good at all, I'm afraid, and we really must find a way to extend the field. I am sure we could make contact if it were only a little stronger. I just need something to—”

“You really don't listen, do you?” Ellie interrupted. “Daisy is Hardy's daughter. She is part Time Lord. They share a bond, and it's telepathic or something like that. You yourself said it before. I know you did.”

“I did?”

“The other you did, yes,” Hardy told him. “The bond between me and Daisy exists. It's been there since before she was born, and it's more empathic than telepathic.”

“We did mention it before,” Daisy told her, trying to be helpful. “Dad and I even explained it some. You don't remember?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” the Doctor said. “I merely assumed that bond was only because he was a Time Lord. You said it was familial, but that was impossible, so I dismissed it out of course.”

“Bloody aliens,” Ellie muttered, and Daisy looked over at her, a bit hurt. She was only a quarter alien, but that didn't make it right. Even her father wasn't that bad, though she knew he was gruff and grumpy half the time.

“Well, if there is a true connection, we may be able to use it,” the Doctor said. “It is worth trying, since I do believe we could make contact if we only had a bit more... Very well. We'll do this with three. Four, counting the TARDIS.”

“No.”

The Doctor frowned. “This, again? We've already fixed the issues with your past. You've got all your doors locked up like a fortress. It's fine.”

“Do you think I want you in my daughter's head any more than I wanted you in mine?” Her father asked. “No. You won't.”

“Dad, it's fine. I want to help,” Daisy said, and he gave her a look. She smiled back at him, knowing he wouldn't be able to resist her. She was doing this. She was so doing this. She was going to help her father and grandfather find a mythical alien. It was incredible.

He sighed. “I don't like this, Daize. It's not a good idea.”

“I know you don't think it is, but I still want to do it.”

“Good,” her grandfather said. “We'll make a triangle. I do like triangles. Interesting shapes. You place your hand on your daughter's cheek, I'll do the other, and we'll complete the circuit with a physical connection to aid the mental one.”

The Doctor put his hand on Daisy's cheek first, but her father didn't touch her. Her grandfather shook his head, going over to him and moving his hand onto Daisy's cheek. Once he'd done that, he put his own hand on her father's face and then hers.

“Here we go.”

* * *

“We didn't go anywhere,” Daisy said. “We're still in the same place.”

The Doctor chuckled. “Oh, it looks like we didn't, but I assure you we did. We've entered the landscape of your mind. Well of our minds, respectively. This room looks like the TARDIS. It's a point of reference between the four of us. You should just be able to feel her in the back of your mind.”

The girl frowned. “Oh. Is that what that is? Dad, you could feel that before?”

Alec nodded. “Yes. She's not shy about nudging when she thinks you're doing things wrong.”

Daisy smiled, walking around the room. She was pleased to be here, which was a welcome change from the man glowering from the other side of them. The Doctor took out his jelly babies, thinking he would enjoy them just as much even if they weren't real, and the more positive emotions that could be brought about now, the better. They needed to give the Hoelf a reason to communicate with them.

“Let's go back to trying to say hello,” the Doctor began. “If you'd like to do the honors this time, young lady?”

Daisy looked back at him, startled, disbelief all over her face. “Me? What do I say?”

“Hello.”

“Don't be a smartarse,” Alec told him. He looked at his daughter. “It's probably not going to work, so let him do it.”

The Doctor shook his head. “There was no malicious intent. I thought she might like to be the one to make contact.”

“Sure,” Daisy said. She bit her lip, turned around again. “I really don't know what to say. How do you greet new aliens?”

“Tell them to piss off,” her father muttered, and the Doctor looked at him, appalled.

“Diplomacy is not Dad's forte,” Daisy said. “You do not want to see him with my mother. Not now, not ever. If they get started, it's awful. At least it's kind of funny when he bickers with Ellie. With my mum, it's war.”

“I see,” the Doctor began, amused. “Still, we do need to make contract so we can tell the Hoelf what the situation is and rectify it.”

“So we start with piss off,” Alec muttered. “Then it goes, and we go back to our own lives.”

“Dad, no,” Daisy began, frowning, but then the Doctor saw a flicker of something on the edge of the room. Could it be this friction between them was actually drawing something in? Had they made contact or was that just an illusion?

“I'm not changing my mind, darling. These Hoelf need to go, and inviting them for a polite chat doesn't help. We need them to leave, not stick around. They're doing damage, and you want me to pretend like I'm pleased they're here? What, because they're a bloody myth? No. I'm angry. I didn't want to be involved any more of this. I gave it up years ago, and just because some irritating wanker of an alien comes along and proves to be my father biologically doesn't make a damned bit of difference. I didn't want that. I wanted _my_ life. The life I chose, not one that chose me because I'm a freak of nature and pawn of time. No. This Hoelf can go and take their damned weather with them.”

“We have upset you,” a voice said, echoing around the mock chamber, and now all of the room was filled with the wisps, shimmering in a multicolored array as they moved, almost swimming in the air.

“Are you the Hoelf?” Daisy asked, swallowing, the lights reflected in her eyes.

“We have no name among our own. We are ancient. We are forever. We are with time, we are with the universe. We simply are.”

“Which means you can simply go,” Alec said. “You heard me. Go.”

“Wait, what if that means they're everywhere and nowhere all at once?” Daisy asked. “Is that even possible? And if it is, they can't go? What exactly do we know about them? We don't even know if they are the same things as your myth. What are they called?” 

“Again, it is you that would name us. You have called us Hoelf.”

“Is that really what you are? Or are you something else?” the girl pushed. “What if you're just pretending to be Hoelf and you're something else? What if you're impersonating a myth to get away with doing real damage to this town?”

“Excellent point,” Alec said. “Now you sound like my daughter.”

“Both of you with such suspicious minds,” the Doctor said, frowning. “I suppose you'd consider that a family trait.”

The girl shrugged. “Two coppers for parents. I didn't stand a chance.”

“Are you the Hoelf? The creatures known as the Hoelf, I mean,” the Doctor began. “What little we do know of you is that you're attracted to areas of great emotional upheaval. You seem to repair them, but with the cost of atmospheric disturbances.”

The colors around them seemed to shift. He watched them, noticing a distinct increase in both red and mauve tones.

“Oh, dear,” the Doctor said. “I do hope that we haven't upset you.”


	8. Time for Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor, Daisy, and Hardy finish their conversation with the Hoelf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always intended the battle to be something of a mental one, and it worked out rather well this way. I did look at it and surprise myself as I was about to finish two stories in one day before I gave into exhaustion and tried to sleep. I didn't, but now this one is done, I think, which is a bit of a relief because I made myself more anxious than usual trying to write a character I didn't know well enough. It's a bit sad, too.

* * *

“We are attracted to areas of disturbance, but we are everywhere,” the Hoelf said in their creepy joint voice, all speaking at the same time. Hardy found them very unsettling, and he wanted to break contact with both his father and Daisy and get away from them, reminded unpleasantly of the Vroeyth.

“So... you're not angry,” Daisy said, and the Hoelf shifted, colors shimmering again. “Right?”

“We do not experience emotions ourselves,” the Hoelf told her. “We feel the emotions of others. The upset is not ours. We are calm. We make the universe calm. Places ask for our healing, screaming in pain, and we gather. We heal.”

“You're doing damage here,” Hardy told them. “You know that, don't you? The weather is insane, and people will freeze to death if you don't stop what you're doing.”

“We cannot stop. We must repair the wound before we leave. This work is not done.”

“You can't stay here, the Doctor said, frowning. “You are threatening the lives of everyone who lives in this town. That's thousands of lives. You're killing them. Whatever wound is here, it's not worth their lives. You have to stop, now, and let the weather return to normal.”

“We cannot stop before the wound is repaired,” the Hoelf repeated. “It must be healed. This work is ours, and we exist for it. We cannot do other than this.”

“You're going to have to kill them all, then,” Hardy said, and Daisy looked at him, horrified. “Sorry, darling, but that's the point. They can shift our emotions, maybe, make us feel better for a short while, but we don't forget, that's the trouble. No one in this town will ever be over Danny Latimer's death until they die themselves, and that's why the weather is getting worse and worse. Healing the wound means erasing it entirely—it and everyone who remembers it.”

“I dare say you're right,” the Doctor said, “and I also won't allow that to happen. What you're doing is not healing anything. This place must be left alone.”

“It cannot be abandoned. We must finish our work.”

“You're not going to be allowed to finish it,” the Doctor said. “You are killing sentient beings, and I will not allow it. I don't care what dimension you inhabit. This is wrong, and you have to stop. There must be thousands of other wounds that are greater than this. Why not the sight of a natural disaster. An earthquake. A tornado. A volcano. Even a little fire—”

“The Holocaust,” Daisy added, and Hardy was pleased to know she still remembered some of her history. “The bombing of Hiroshima. 9/11. Or any war, any battle. Why not them?”

“Excellent point, Daisy,” the Doctor said, turning to the Hoelf, “Of all the emotional wounds in time and space, why would you choose to come to this one?”

“It extends beyond its time.”

Daisy and the Doctor frowned, confused, but Hardy thought he understood what the Hoelf meant. “You mean because there was a time traveler who got involved, landing his ship multiple times on areas of emotional resonance caused by a being that fed on emotions and the wake of an unshielded telepath.”

“The echoes carried themselves through time itself in the vortex.”

Hardy pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache starting, which was ridiculous because he was inside his head at the moment. “Then wouldn't you have to destroy time itself to stop it?”

The Hoelf stilled. “Time?”

“If the wound leaked into the vortex, only destroying time could stop it,” the Doctor said, grinning to Daisy's horror as she didn't understand their plan. “It's now a part of everywhere and everything, like you. It can't be stopped without destroying everything.”

“No.”

“You know he's right,” Hardy said. “You either destroy time, or you stop this now. What is it going to be? Are you willing to repair time—oh, wait. You are part of time, aren't you? You'd be killing yourselves if you destroyed time.”

“We...” the Hoelf shimmered again. “We will go.”

And they did, just like that, shimmering away and breaking the mental connection as they did.

* * *

Three bodies went down like rag dolls, crumpling to the ground. Fred didn't seem to notice, busy irritating the robotic dog, but Tom looked at Ellie in a panic, and they both rushed over to the fallen Time Lords and demi-Lords. She'd barely reached Hardy's side when the Doctor started to stir, sitting up and putting a hand to his head.

“Bloody hell, that hurt,” Hardy said, rolling over with a groan. He sat up, looking over at his daughter. Ellie thought he wanted to go to her but didn't dare move. “Daisy?”

“Ouch,” she said, and Tom helped her sit up, propping her up a bit as he did.

“I imagine, as you are only a fraction Time Lord you will find yourself the most adversely affected by all of this,” the Doctor told her with a grimace. “Terribly sorry about that, Daisy, as you are by far the least deserving of such pain.”

“And you wondered why I didn't want her involved,” Hardy grumbled, wincing again as he tried to rise. “My head feels like I've been on a week long bender. Was that them or you?”

“I beg your pardon?” the Doctor asked, offended. “I didn't do that. It was the stress of talking to trans-dimensional beings that ended the conversation on a very unpleasant note.”

“It was pretty smart of you two to convince them that they'd have to destroy time if they wanted to keep 'fixing' things,” Daisy said, and Ellie looked at her in horror. What part of that was smart? They couldn't do that. Those things would destroy the universe. “Ellie, it's fine. They're part of time. They can't do it. They'd destroy themselves.”

“It was rather genius of me,” the Doctor said, smiling. He took out his bag of candies and ate one, apparently waiting for his head to stop hurting so he could move, if she could judge anything from Hardy's behavior.

“So, they're gone? Really gone? And the weather is back to normal? The snow is gone?”

“According to what the Hoelf told us, they're everywhere,” the Doctor said, “so technically speaking, they're not gone. They have ceased their efforts here, which is what we needed. The weather should be back to its regular cycle now that they are not causing further disturbances, but it will likely take some time to normalize. And no, the snow is still present. It will melt as the temperature rises and the weather stabilizes, but it is still present for now.”

“Oh,” Ellie said, feeling a bit uncertain about all of this. It wasn't like they'd had a chance to see any of the resolution—that was all in the Time Lords' heads. She would have rather heard all of that conversation herself.

“Stop fretting, Miller,” Hardy ordered, picking himself up off the ground with a string of curses. He leaned against the TARDIS and took a few breaths before speaking again. “The Hoelf are dormant. No, I can't guarantee they won't try again, but it's very unlikely they would, as they are convinced that their work would require going after time itself. And yes, it _is_ his fault.”

“Mine? Surely not,” the Doctor said, rising. “I didn't—oh. You're saying the time traveler who landed on those points of resonance was a future version of me.”

“Yes.”

“That still makes you the unshielded telepath.”

“Shut up.”

Ellie laughed. She didn't know why she was laughing, exactly. Sometimes it was funny to hear Hardy bicker with his father, but they'd come close to disaster, again, and their plan for saving the world seemed a little flawed. She didn't know that she trusted it or them. She wished she'd been there, but then she was like Hardy—she didn't want anyone in her head, either.

“Are you sure it's fixed?” Ellie asked, and Hardy gave her a look, but she did have to ask. She didn't want anyone dying out there because it was freezing.

“K-9?”

“Master,” the dog said. “Temperature outside is beginning to rise.”

“You see?” the Doctor said in triumph. “Genius.”

“The same genius who is going to go on dismissing his son and granddaughter as impossible?” Ellie prodded, still a bit irritated by both of them.

“I never said that,” the Doctor said, and she frowned at him. “I did say it was highly unlikely. However, I must admit to having my doubts as to whether or not we would have been able to accomplish what we did without that familial bond. The genetic connection as well as the mental one may have tipped the balance in our favor. Worked out rather well, don't you think?”

Ellie stared at him. “You're kidding.”

“Actually, no, not this time,” the Doctor told her with a grin. Then he turned to Hardy. “I don't suppose you have any more of that cocoa, do you?”

* * *

“Gramps?”

The Doctor stopped as he was about to drink his cocoa and frowned, not sure he cared for that appellation despite his growing appreciation for his son and granddaughter. He rather liked the mind on his son, and his granddaughter had potential as well. He could not say the same for the name. It had none. “I think we can do without the name calling.”

Alec snorted. “Good luck with that. She's rather attached to the name. Should have heard what she called her goldfish.”

“Dad,” Daisy said, sounding horrified. “You promised you weren't going to tell anyone.”

“I didn't,” he said, smiling at her, and she groaned, almost burying her head in her hands or was willing the ground to swallow her before her father could divulge that particular bit of information. With as much snow as was still on the ground, it was almost possible, in a sense.

“I think 'cheeky' runs in the family,” Ellie commented, and the Doctor smiled at her.

“Yes, I dare say it does,” the Doctor agreed. He could see shades of himself in both his son and his granddaughter, and he found himself missing Susan now. He had no companions at the moment besides K-9, though that could change, he supposed. It was something to consider, at least.

“Gramps?”

“I thought I said—” the Doctor's speech was interrupted by a well-timed impact with a snowball. He frowned, shaking the snow from his hair and wiping off his face. “I see. You were only the distraction.”

“Used to be Mum and me ganging up on Dad in snowball fights,” Daisy told him with a smile. “We had to so it was more fair.”

“Two against one is fair?”

“He's part alien. I think that gives him an advantage,” Ellie said, and Alec rolled his eyes. “What? Your father's always going off on how superior his Time Lord physiology is, so why wouldn't you have a bit of a cheat?”

“She does have you there,” the Doctor told his son. “We do have some distinct physical advantages over normal humans.”

“I'm half-human, and that almost killed me, but sure, it's an advantage,” Alec muttered. He looked the Doctor over, grimacing a little. “And you know you have to forget all this.”

“Dad,” Daisy protested. “You don't have to—he doesn't have to leave yet. The other one was able to stay for days. There's no reason you have to rush, not unless you don't forget, and since you're going to, you can stay for a bit, can't you?”

The Doctor nodded. “I can, though the risk of potential future paradoxes increases the longer I do. Still, I'm not in a hurry. That is the nice part of this life of mine. I go where I want, when I want.”

“Except on a holiday,” Alec said, and the Doctor frowned. That was also true, but how did his son know that? “I told you—I saw into your mind before.”

“I know,” the Doctor agreed. “And I've seen a bit of yours as well.”

Alec grimaced, but the Doctor shook his head, going over to his side. He gave his old scarf a brief tug. “You know, I do think I'm glad you made off with this scarf. When it happened, of course, I was quite put out, but now... it seems rather fitting.”

“We need a picture,” Daisy said, rushing over to join them. “All three of us, in our scarves. And then we should have a real snowball fight before you go.”

The Doctor smiled at that, taking out a jelly baby and enjoying the moment. He supposed this was a sort of holiday, and he even got to spend it with family—more than that, he actually wanted to be with him. Oh, this was very good indeed.


End file.
